Out Of Her Favour, Where I Am

Silence Is The Perfectest Herault Of Joy. I Were But Little Happy If I Could Say How Much.

Tremble, Thou Wretch, That Hast Within Thee Undivulged Crimes Unwhipped Of Justice.

Thou Shouldst Not Have Been Old Till Thou Hadst Been Wise.

Who Seeks, And Will Not Take, When Once 'tis Offer'd, Shall Never Find It More.

O King, Believe Not This Hard-hearted Man!